Downton Abbey July Fanfiction Bonanza
by Morgana's Cat
Summary: In this series of one-shots I explore different facets of Mary and Tom's relationship through responses to a-tardis-at-downton's tumblr challenge. Mainly fluffy drabbles. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Novel

Disclaimer: I do not presume to own Downton Abbey by writing this fanfic.

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It was late. So late nearly the entire house was asleep, including the ever-working staff. But Mary's eyes refused to remain closed. Bored and feeling very alone, she stumbled out of bed, not even bothering to throw on a robe. Her wanderings took her to the library. With the quietest maneuver, she creaked open the door and slipped in, only to find someone already within.

She squeaked involuntarily and the door clacked shut. Exhausted and surprised, her normally icy personality dropped away, and Mary stood in the pool of light, blinking like a bat.

"I can't say I was expecting you, but it is a nice night for company." Tom's voice echoed out from the sofa, and as Mary's eyes adjusted, she squinted to see his outline.

"I couldn't sleep." Her voice crackled.

"I can see that." Tom said with the vaguest chuckle, gesturing at her nightgown. Mary only then realized the impropriety of her dress, the thin material revealing most of her form. With only the slightest hint of a blush, she sat down determinedly beside him, acting as elegant as if a jeweled gown lay on her back instead of a thin sheet of cotton fabric, deciding it was too late to adjust anything now anyway, half too tired to care.

"You couldn't sleep either, I presume." Tom was dressed, but the bags under his eyes said he hadn't closed them for a moment.

"No. Not sure why, but I figured I might as well read a bit, if I was going to be awake anyway."

Mary smiled. "What novel would you recommend for the insomniac, then?"

"This one!" He waved the book he was holding about dramatically in the air, in a half-asleep drunkenness of mind. "I'm not even sure what exactly it's about, but it's dreadfully boring!"

Mary leaned back into the sofa and quietly scooted closer to him. "Read to me, then." A bit of her mouth pulled up in a smile.

Tom's eyebrows raised slightly, but complied, shifting almost imperceptibly towards her too, flipping the book open. "And so, Annie discovers the power of goodness, but Howard was not done yet; the psychology was underwhelming…"  
Mary drifted off almost instantly, coaxed to sleep in the comforting rise and fall of Tom's Irish accented voice. The moment her head fell to his shoulder, Tom's face softened, and he looked at her peaceful face for some time until he nudged her awake enough to half-carry, half-walk her to bed.

"Goodnight, Mary."

"G'ngggggg tmmmm…." Her eyes were sealed shut, but her hand came up to stroke his face. He breathed in sharply, but the moment ended as suddenly as it had begun. He retreated to his own bed, at last prepared for the oblivion of sleep.

The only evidence of the night's affairs was a novel on Mary's floor the next morning, which she tucked away from Anna with a mysterious smile. "It's the silliest thing, really."

She would say no more.


	2. Chapter 2: Wet

Tom was utterly and totally drenched. Only he would be asked to sit in on the children's bath-time with Mrs. Hughes as they searched for a new nanny, and the second she stepped out of the room to fetch some new towels, a yelp of "Da, look!" came from the tub. The moment he went to see, a wave of water came careening into his face, accented by the high-pitched sound of children giggling in glee. An all-out splashfest followed. Mrs. Hughes walked back into a war zone.

"Really, Mr. Branson, I thought better of you." She attempted a stern look but the edges of her lips turned up nevertheless.

"Couldn't be helped!" He said with a wink. "You could even consider George and Sybbie cleaner!"

With a sigh, she handed him a towel.

"You'll be no help. Go on and change. I'll dry them off myself." She waved Tom out of the bathroom with a smirk.

He walked down the hall to his room, doing the best to dry off with one lone towel and didn't pay any attention to where he was going.

"Wha—!" A small muffled shriek came out of thin air in front of him, and all of a sudden he crashed into someone, stumbling through space. Thankfully, he caught himself before either of them fell. Removing the towel from his face, whoever was there but Mary!

She stood there, slightly bedraggled. Wet patches blossomed on her dress from where Tom had crashed into her, and her hair was in disarray.

She sent him mock glare. "What on earth is going on here?"

"Your son deemed it appropriate to have a splash war with Sybbie and I was caught innocently in its midst," he declared with a towel-covered hand pressed dramatically to his heart.

"I'm sure." She cracked a smile. "Are you certain you didn't instigate it, your rebellious spirit interrupting a perfectly proper bathing party?"

"Mostly sure." He smiled back. "Sorry 'bout your dress though."

"I'll be fine." Mary said dryly. "You need to change though."

"Yes, of course. That's what I was on the way to do."

"But, you know…" She trailed off, considering. "Since you're already wet… And I never liked this dress anyway… We might as well finish off this 'splash war' on our own, merely to determine a victor, of course."

Tom's eyes widened. "That's most… Uncharacteristic of you, Mary. Not that I'm complaining."

"Never mind that. Now let's head off before Mrs. Hughes gets it all cleaned up!"

With a laugh Tom hurried back to the bath with her. Now this would certainly make for a bath time that George and Sybbie couldn't forget.


	3. Chapter 3: Teatime

It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Mary was taking tea in the parlor. Everyone else, it seemed, was out and she had the entire house to herself. Carson had simply deposited the tea on the table and left, letting her serve herself. Normally she would find such simplicity a bit relaxing- she didn't have to listen to Rose's incessant whining, for instance. But today she felt a bit lonely. Pouring a cup, she went over to the window and peered out over Downton's lawn. A singular figure wafted across the misty grass, and squinting a bit, she could see that it was Tom! Why on earth would he be out there when he could be inside, keeping her company… Mary's thoughts froze. Why was she even wondering such things? Did she miss him, or was she just lonely in general? Why was his absence having an effect on her at all? Shoving all thoughts aside, she marched over to the table, scooting everything off the tray but two cups of tea, and walked right out of the house and onto the lawn where she had seen him last, by an old tree.

"Mary!" Tom shouted, surprised, as he saw her figure drift towards him across the path. "What are you doing out here?"

"Well, it's teatime and I thought you might want some." She said firmly, nearly daring him to turn down a cup.

"Oh, is it already? You didn't have to come out, you know." He said, gesturing her to a bench nevertheless.

"I wanted to. What are you doing out here?" She asked, sitting down beside him with the tea tray placed between, handing him the cup she had poured for him.

"Just wandering, thinking mostly." He said, taking the cup gratefully and sipping it. "This is exactly how I like it. How did you know?" One eyebrow quirked at Mary, causing a blush to rise up which she quickly forced back down.

"Oh, well, I pay attention." She tossed her hair back casually, and his breath caught.

"Ah. Thank you."

Mary inclined her head towards him in welcome.

They sat there quietly for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally exchanging a bit of small talk but mostly enjoying the simple presence of one another, the only other person who understood their pains and triumphs completely. They retreated back to the house as the sun went down and the car came slowly up the drive, bringing the rest of the family home for dinner.

"Thank you, Tom, for this afternoon." Mary said with a smile before disappearing with the tea tray to places unknown.

"Anytime." His voice echoed in the empty hall. "Anytime."


	4. Chapter 4: Future

Bright sun shone through the nursery windows where Mary and Tom were having a playdate with George and Sybbie. Tom was building a castle on the floor while Mary sat calmly by the window, rocking George to sleep and looking out over Downton's impressive grounds.

"One day, darling, all that will be yours," she brushed a hair out of George's face. "Make sure you take care of it for your Mummy, won't you?" George let out a sigh and snuggled closer to her.

Tom smiled up at the pair from his spot in the carpet. "Oh, he will. Isn't it funny how all our hope for the future is in our children? I never thought it would feel quite like this, but it does. I only wish… Never mind."

"What is it, Tom?" Mary asked curiously. He never usually trailed off like that.

"It's just so infuriating that you aren't allowed any control of the estate, just because you were born a woman and not a man! While I know little George here will grow up to be a good person, there is simply no reason for you not to take over until he is of age! I tried to talk to your father, believe me, but he stubbornly refuses your ideas. I'm so sorry, Mary." Tom declared passionately.

Mary's face softened. "Thank you, Tom, that's very kind- I just don't know what to say to Papa. He's hurting too, and as a way of comfort he retreats back into tradition. It's not healthy, but I don't know if I have any good plans anyway."

"Don't you dare say that! Mary, I've heard you talk. There is no one more invested in the future of Downton like you! You've made sacrifice after sacrifice just to save it, and you can't give up now just because you're unsure of the next step! I believe in you, Mary!" he took in a deep breath after his speech, eyes flashing.

Mary froze in her chair, shocked and flattered. "Thank you for saying that, I didn't realize…"

"I said it because it's true!" He exclaimed.

"And it might be." Mary's voice held a slight suggestion of smugness. "But what do you propose I do about it?"

"You never needed instruction before."

"I knew what I was doing before."

"How about I go over all the things I'm planning on presenting to your father with you, and you can give me suggestions. That's a way to start."

"Thank you again. I think I will do just that."

"Good. Now you have a hand in controlling your own future, and making a better world for your son."

"For all of us." She said.

"For all of us, yes." He smiled.


	5. Chapter 5: Bombs

"Matthew!" Mary screamed and woke up with a start, panting and deathly cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in fear and sadness. She had dreamed once more about Matthew, but this time it was not the dreadful car accident. This time it was the war.

Perhaps it was because the anniversary of Matthew's return from war was yesterday, Mary mused. She had told George a few stories about his Papa's great bravery, and even though he did not quite understand everything, it comforted Mary to tell them and to let her memories escape.

But it did not seem to have worked. The images in Mary's mind were full of violence and sickening acts of horror, and releasing them only seemed to dredge up more memories. Bombs exploded in her mind, soldiers screaming and whimpering left and right, gore coating the ground in gruesome, grisly sheets. Matthew's wounds tore anew over and over in her head, and she burst into tears. How could he have survived so much? And now he was dead and could no longer be comforted. Perhaps now it was Mary's turn to be accursed with horrid dreams.

Miserable, lonely, and very afraid, she stood from the chair in the nursery where she had fallen asleep, bones aching. Slipping past the sleeping children, she creaked toward the door when all of a sudden, she hit a particularly squeaky board. A startled grunt came from a corner of the darkened room and Mary froze.  
"Who's there?"

A hand reached up to rub a hooded pair of eyes. "Oh, so you're finally awake then. That's good. I thought I heard something from you earlier, but I thought it was just a dream." Tom's unmistakeable voice called across the room to her.

With a sigh, she headed over towards him. "No, you probably heard right. I had a rather bad dream I'm afraid."

Tom peered up at her, studying her tear-stained face. "Matthew?"

Mary could only nod, exhausted. Tom got up and sat her in his old seat, pulling a blanket around her shoulders which she accepted gratefully.

"Want to talk about it?"

She took in a shaky breath. "I usually dream about the car. Always. I hate it, but I can expect it. But this?" She held a trembling hand before her face. "It was the war, and, oh Tom, it was awful." She was on the verge of tears again. "I'm so frightened. And the worst is that there's no reason to be because it's all over, but my dreams don't know that, do they? I want it to stop!"

Tom considered for a moment. "It's terribly overused, but you could think about happy things. Just for right now. We can work out the rest in the morning, but right now you're exhausted and that's no help." He pulled a chair next to Mary's. "What are the best things in your life right now?"

Mary smiled vaguely. "Well, Downton and George, obviously. There's a very nice photograph of Matthew that I have, which has to be enough for now. Sybbie reminds me ever so much of my sister. You, Tom,"

Tom looked up with a start. "Me?"

"But of course. You're here for me, aren't you?" She smiled half-heartedly, and moved on hurriedly. "The weather's been lovely recently. I bought a new dress Thursday, that's nice. Granny was reading this article that annoyed her, and…" She went on, slowly drifting off as she spoke, to peaceful dreams at last. Tom relaxed into the rise and fall of her voice, and soon he was asleep too.

The nanny would find them there the next morning, lost in dreams of better, more peaceful days ahead.

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**AN: **I want to thank you all for such lovely and kind reviews! I am utterly flattered and I'm embarrassed to admit I shed a few tears. Thank you darlings! I'm glad you like my writing :)


	6. Chapter 6: Socks

"Mama, mama!" Mary turned to hear George's cry, distracting her from a rather engrossing conversation with Tom. The two were out on the lawn, having a picnic with the children who were having a grand time eating sandwiches and chasing butterflies. However, it had rained the day before and mud puddles were in great supply. Mary and Tom were keeping busy stopping the children from jumping right in, and Mary wondered to herself if perhaps it would have been a good idea to have brought the nanny with them. Still, it was very nice to have quality time with the children- their brightness cheered Mary's heart. She reached for George.

"What's wrong, my darling?" She asked, concerned.

George smiled impishly. "Socks!" He pointed at his feet. Looking down, Mary saw that he had lost both shoes and his socks were coated in mud.

"Oh, George!" She sighed. "Where did you lose your shoes, hmm?" She raised her eyebrows sternly. Tom sniggered softly in the background at her mock-severity.

George pouted, but pointed towards a puddle a few feet away. Mary turned towards Tom. "Would you go and grab them while I keep this little rascal out of trouble, please?"

Tom choked down his laughter to tap George playfully on the nose and then to head over to the indicated puddle where he found Sybbie hovering.

"What're we doing here?" He asked, further amused by her serious face.

"Georgie disobeyed his Mama, which is very bad. I want to be good, but it looked so fun!" Sybbie seemed very perplexed by her dilemma.

"Indeed, darling. Well I don't see the bad in one more pair of dirty socks. Give me your shoes and you can have one," he held up one finger sternly, "splash."

"One." Sybbie counted and showed him on her hands before handing Tom her shoes and hopping in the puddle with a shriek of glee. Mud splattered all up her socks, soaking them, but she cared not at all. Content with her splash, she hopped back out with a grin and meandered back over towards Mary. Tom grabbed George's shoes and followed.

"What's this?" Mary asked, surveying her niece's haphazard clothing and brown-specked socks. "Not you too."

Sybbie plopped down next to Mary and George. "Papa said I could."

"Did he now." Mary's lips pinched and she glanced up at Tom, whose eyes were still glittering in mirth. "And here I thought I had you here to keep the two of them in line, when I find out you're just as bad!"

"Ah, but you're forgetting!" Tom grinned. "Carson has told me a story or two about you at this age, and it seems to me…"

"Stop right there, Tom Branson!" Mary attempted in vain to cover both children's ears, a blush rising in her cheeks.

"Fine, fine." He gently dropped the subject. "How about we get you two mud-monsters up to the house to clean up?"

"Now that I can approve of." Mary smiled and stood up. "Come along, darlings!"

The group headed up to the house, Mary carrying George and holding Sybbie's hand as Tom swung along the picnic packet. "I'm not about to trust you with them again until they're clean!" Mary declared to both children's whines and Tom's half-hearted protests. "Still, I'm glad we could all have a bit of fun, didn't we?"

"Yay!" squealed George.  
"I did!" chorused Sybbie.  
"I'm glad you approve of something!" Tom said with a wink.

Mary just shook her head and said, "I only wonder what the poor nanny is going to say to all these dirty socks!"


	7. Chapter 7: Ruined

"But Anna! What happened? It's my favorite dress!" Mary exclaimed as Anna helped her dress for dinner.

"Yes, my lady, I know. I'm afraid I can't quite explain it- there was a stain on the hem and I took it downstairs to be cleaned but something must have happened when I was out of the room because it's in shreds. I'm terribly sorry but I have no idea what happened!" Anna exclaimed.

"Oh Anna, I don't blame you- but still, is this my punishment for wearing brighter clothes now? It was only dark red, for heaven's sake!"

"No, my lady, I refuse to believe it. Matthew liked you to be cheerful." Anna shook her head emphatically.

Mary sighed. "I suppose you're right. But still, you know even Mr. Branson had complimented me on that dress. It's a terrible shame." She said sadly.

Anna studied her melancholy companion. "You know, my lady, you do have a new purple dress that is most elegant…" She hinted.

Mary's head snapped up. "I do like that one. You don't suppose it's too bright, do you?"

"Not at all. Shall I fetch it for you?"

Mary nodded, and smiled when Anna pulled it out and helped her dress. "It is quite lovely."

"Indeed." Anna grinned. "Now, my lady, head on down, we've run a bit late."

"But of course." Mary headed on down to dinner, swaying elegantly in her new dress. It clung elegantly to her skin and she knew she looked like a dream. It did feel nice to dress fashionably again, although she felt a sting of regret when thinking of her mourning clothes. Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she entered the library.

"There you are, Mary. Shall we head on into dinner now, everyone?" Cora said, smiling at her eldest daughter. "I must say, you do look lovely my dear."

"Thank you mama." The corners of Mary's mouth twitched up as they walked into dinner. It was only Papa, Mama, Granny, Tom, and Edith tonight, but something in Mary made her try a bit harder in her wardrobe choices for the evening, and she was cheered by Cora's compliments.

They went into dinner and were seated, only to find Carson nearly in a fit.

"Why Carson, whatever is the matter?" Robert asked, slightly concerned by the butler's red face.

"Terribly sorry for disturbing you my lord, but something's happened with the ovens and your dinner has been ruined, burned to a crisp I might say. Do you have any alternate requests for dinner?" Carson said worriedly.

Mary stood there silently. First her dress and now dinner! Honestly, she asked herself, why did she even try?

Eventually they settled on cold soup, toast, and tea, and had a very short dinner before they all returned to the parlor. Mary found herself talking to Tom after everyone else had retired to make an early night of it.

"Quite a day, wouldn't you say?" Tom asked, peering at Mary's odd-looking, slightly pinched face. She didn't reply. "It's enough to be exhausting. I hope they manage to fix the ovens soon." He added, hoping to strike up a conversation.

Mary started, pulled out of a bit of a sulk. "Oh yes of course. It has been quite a day." She said. "First my dress and now dinner, I wonder what's next?" She mumbled to herself.

"Why, what happened to your dress?" Tom asked, scanning her up and down.

Mary shivered slightly under his intense gaze, and glanced up at him through her lashes. "I don't know exactly, but Anna tells me my favorite red dress has been ruined, so I had to wear this instead." She fluttered a hand at her purple-encased bodice, and missed Tom's gulp after a prolonged glance.

"That's a pity, I liked that one. But this dress isn't so bad. In fact, it's rather nice on you." Tom said, quickly sipping some more brandy.

"Do you really think so?" Mary said earnestly, leaning towards him slightly with a rising flush in her cheeks.

"Definitely." Tom said, reciprocating her attempt at proximity by sliding a bit closer on the sofa.

Mary's lips turned up in a smile, and she tilted her face up towards his, near enough to taste the alcohol on his mouth. Tom's breathing sped up, but she crept closer and closer- before springing back in a sudden jump.

"Oh Tom, what am I doing?" She exclaimed, pressing a gloved hand to her face. "My dress is ruined, and then dinner, and now I've probably ruined our friendship! My entire day has been ruined!" A tear slipped down her cheek where it sat, glistening in the firelight.

Tom reached up to wipe it away, and pressed closer towards her ear. "You could never ruin our friendship, Mary. I value you much too much for that."

"Oh, Tom." Mary looked up at him fondly. "I'm just awful though. I've nearly betrayed my husband's memory, not to mention my sister's!" She hiccuped in sadness, eyes shut tight to avoid what surely would be a kind scolding.

Tom did not give her what she expected, however. Instead, he said something wonderful. "You know, Mary, Matthew would have wanted you to be happy. No matter what. Sybil too. You must believe that." He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

She looked up at him hopefully. "Tom, do you really think…"

"No, Mary, I know." And all of a sudden, Tom was there, hands clasping her face gently and wiping her tears away. With a sigh of relief and longing, Mary's arms slid around his neck in a soft swift motion and with a tilt of her head, she finally got to taste the brandy on his tongue.

Perhaps today was not so bad after all.

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**AN:  
**Thank you all so much for all the encouragement so far. I really really appreciate it.


	8. Chapter 8: Red Dress

Mary had gone to London with the express purpose of visiting her aunt. To find her aunt had made other arrangements, "Oh Mary I thought you'd have plenty of other things to do while in town than to visit me. I'll see you at dinner!" was very vexing indeed.

"Anna, what am I supposed to do now?" Mary complained as Anna fixed her hair for the day.

"I don't know, my lady. Perhaps you could go shopping. You do need a new dress."

"That does sound nice. Perhaps a cheery red, to go with those earrings Edith gave me. You don't find it improper if I ask you to come along?" Mary mused.

"Not at all, my lady. It is London after all." Anna replied.

"That settles it then." Mary slid on her gloves and smiled. "I want something flattering."

"For what occasion?" Anna asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing special. When I get home I want them to remember why they missed me." Mary said vaguely.

"Nothing involving Mr. Branson, then?" Anna teased.

"Anna!" Mary exclaimed with a blush.

"Just saying." Anna winked, startling Mary.

"Well… Maybe a little involving Mr. Branson." Mary murmured. "That's all you're getting out of me; your job is to help me pick out a suitable dress!" Mary hurried out of the room and Anna followed behind her.

After some time spent browsing through assorted shops in London, Anna finally spotted the dress.

"Lady Mary- this one. This one is perfect." Anna sighed, running her hands over the silky fabric, tracing the pattern of the beads at the bottom with a fingertip.

Mary studied the scarlet dress with a critical eye. "You don't suppose that I will look like a flapper with all those beads?" She questioned.

"Not at all, my lady. It's subtle enough to pass by your father, but modern enough to catch the eye of a certain Irishman." Anna grinned.

Mary coughed loudly, glaring at Anna, but nevertheless took the dress to an assistant, who fitted it to her form exactly, subtly drawing attention to her curves.

"You look stunning, my lady." Anna sighed happily.

"Thank you Anna." Mary said. "I'll take it." She said to the assistant, who wrapped it and bid her a good day.

A week later at mid morning, Mary hurried up the servants stairs at Downton with Anna, intending her return to be a complete surprise. After dressing, Mary sashayed down to the dining room where she knew her family would be taking luncheon.

She paused by the door casually for a moment, observing everyone's faces. Carson was the first to notice her standing there. "Lady Mary!" He exclaimed, tongs frozen with a piece of fish dangling before her poor father's nose.

Everyone's silverware fell with a clatter, and Papa and Tom leapt up from their seats.

"Mary!" Her father seemed startled, but happy. "We didn't expect you back until dinner!"

Mary smiled at him. "We ended up leaving a bit early. I do hope I haven't interrupted too much." She headed towards an empty seat.

"Not at all. Edith decided not to join us at the last minute, so you can take her seat. We're just starting." Cora said.

Mary sat down and risked a prolonged look at Tom. Admiration shone from his intense gaze as he took in her new dress. 'I suppose you chose right, Anna.' Mary thought to herself, biting down a smirk as lunch restarted. Conversation flowed casually as they caught up with one another, until Tom paused in the middle of her discussion on what she was up to while in London.

"I see you went shopping then. It's a very nice dress." He observed, glancing up over his drink with a twinkle in his eye.

Mary couldn't contain her blush. "I did, and thank you."

Operation Entice Tom: Complete.


	9. Chapter 9: Chimney

Peace washed over Tom as he read the day's paper. He was enjoying a relaxing afternoon in the library by a small fire, watching the rain come down over Downton's lawns. All of a sudden, a soft sound caught his ear. Turning to see what it was, he spotted Mary quietly entering the room. She took a few steps in before noticing Tom on the sofa.

"Tom, I didn't realize you were in here. What are you doing today?" She asked, grabbing a book from the shelf and heading towards the sofa across from him.

"It's nice to see you up and about!" Tom let the newspaper rest on his lap. "Your father and I were supposed to go out on the estate today, but the weather didn't agree with us." He gestured at the window. "I would have invited you, but I thought you were still sick and didn't want you to feel that you were missing out."

"Oh no, I'm doing a bit better than before," she coughed a bit, but continued. "This storm isn't helping matters though. What were you planning on talking to Papa about?" She leaned back into the sofa, rubbing her forehead slightly with her eyes closed.

"Nothing in particular, just checking up on things and making sure everything is running smoothly." Tom paused and got up, heading towards the bell. "You need a cup of tea." he pulled the cord down firmly and returned to sit beside her.

Mary smiled, cracking her eyes open. "You're sweet, thank you." She said with uncharacteristic softness. "Could you do me a favor and feel my forehead? I thought my fever was over, but I'm rather hot…" she sighed.

"Of course." Tom leaned in closer, pressing his fingertips to her head. She shivered at his touch.

"Your head is a little warm," he murmured and then reached down to squeeze her hand. "But the rest of you is cold. Shall I put on another log?"

"Yes, please. But I can wait for the servant."

"It's no trouble." he went to the fire and hmm'd. "Actually," he said, voice sounding slightly strained, "There might be a problem." He jumped up and yanked on the bell again.

"What is it, Tom?" Mary sat up, hearing the tension in his movements.

"There's something wrong with the chimney. There's too much smoke." And indeed, smoke was starting to seep out from the fireplace into the room. "I'm going to get Carson. Why don't you head to the parlor,"

"No!" Mary interrupted with a sneeze. "I'm coming with you."

"Fine, but hurry."

They rushed out of the room only to run into Daisy.

"I heard the bell ring…" She trailed off awkwardly.

"Yes, come on!" Tom exclaimed, herding Daisy along before him. "We need Mr. Carson immediately!"

"Why, what's wrong?" She questioned as they hurtled along.

"The chimney!" Mary said, sneezing again.

"Oh dear." Daisy stammered. "That might be my fault."

"What!" Tom skidded to a stop. "Do you know what's wrong?"

"I was in a rush this morning- and I might have not opened the flue the entire way…"

"Nevermind that now, let's go get Carson to reopen it and air the place out before you fill the whole house with smoke!" Mary wheezed.

At last, they ran into Carson, who promptly threw open the flue and opened a window despite the rain, which had not stopped. The library had become considerably smoky, but no harm was done.

"I apologize for Daisy, my lady," Carson said to Mary as Tom fetched her a cup of tea. "I don't what she was thinking."

"It's alright, we managed to survive." Mary patted him on the hand. "I'm going to retire to my room now. Send Tom upstairs when you see him." She headed for the door.

"Lady Mary, don't you find that a bit… improper?" Carson asked stiffly.

"After nearly being fumigated, I don't care much for propriety at this point." With that, she headed upstairs.

Tom returned shortly after. "Where's Mary?" he asked, concerned.

"You'll find her upstairs, sir. She wants the tea in her room." Carson frowned.

"Thank you." Tom nodded at Carson and headed upstairs, amused by his stern visage but slightly worried about Mary's condition.

He creaked open the door. "Mary?"

"Oh!" Mary clutched her dressing gown to her chest.

Color rose in Tom's face, but he still came forward, closing the door with his heel and laying the tea tray on her bed. "I'm sorry, I should have knocked."

"No, it's quite alright. I thought I'd just dress for bed, since I'll be stuck here all afternoon anyway." she sighed and let her robe flutter open, laying back into her pillows. Tom's gaze slipped lower nearly involuntarily, but he yanked his gaze back up to her face as soon as he realized what he was doing. "You just startled me, that's all. You'll stay for tea, won't you?" the corners of her lips turned up slightly in hope.

"Of course I will, if you want me to. Where shall I sit?" He glances about the room.

"With me, you goose." She scooted over, patting the edge of the bed.

"Carson would have a heart attack." Tom sat down anyway.

Mary rolled her eyes. "He would have the grace to knock, for one thing." She raised an eyebrow at Tom with a smirk. "Besides, I don't suspect you'll try anything and risk getting sick too."

"So you're suggesting I would try something, if you were well?" Tom half-smiled back at her with a roguish expression.

"Perhaps." Mary grinned at him over a sip of tea.

"Well then, perhaps I would." He said with a wink.

Mary blushed and coughed again, cup shaking in her hands. Tom's amused expression dropped from his face as he set the cup gently on the tray and patted Mary's back until the fit was over.

"Perhaps we should save these conversations for when you're better." He said seriously.

"I suppose you're right." Mary sighed and changed the subject. "Now, what were you telling me about this conversation with Papa?"

They talked about Downton the rest of the day, and Tom returned after dinner to continue their conversation. If Anna found him splayed across the foot of Mary's bed the next morning, she would never say.

* * *

**AN:  
**A few things: 1 I edited the last chapter for some grammar issues, so you can go reread that if you want. 2 I bumped the rating for this chapter just to be on the safe side. 3 Also, I now have a poll on my profile about how I update this story- please vote! And finally- Thank you for all the reviews, they encourage me to keep writing. *heart*


	10. Chapter 10: Dog

Tom was on a walk through town with Isis on a bright and cheerful day. He was supposed to meet up with Mary in the pub for a light snack before heading out to check up on some nearby farms, but poor Isis was simply whining to get outside and Tom didn't see the harm in a bit of exercise. She trotted along beside him as he walked into the pub, glancing around the smoky interior for Mary when she spotted her in a booth in the corner. Signaling at the server, he headed over towards Mary, a smile springing on his face at the sight of the noble lady sitting elegantly at a slightly gritty country pub.  
"Tom!" She exclaimed happily as he slid into the booth beside her. The proper thing to do would be to pull up a chair, but he liked Mary's closeness and judging by the way she leaned towards him surreptitiously, she liked the proximity too. "I see you brought the dog." She patted Isis's head.

"I hoped you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not! Isis and I go way back, don't we darling?" Isis's tail pounded the ground in agreement. Tom cracked a smile and laid his arm across the back of the booth comfortably. Mary glanced up at him curiously, but was distracted as the bartender brought them their drinks. They clinked them together cheerfully before drinking and, winking, the bartender tossed Isis a small bit of chicken. Mary nestled closer to Tom under the cover of the cool darkness of the pub, the anonymity of the place and the liquor giving her a bit of bravery.

"What's on our checklist for today?" Her lips brushed his ear as if they were discussing state secrets.

"I thought we could wander about a few farms after we have a drink," he mumbled into her hair. "Would you like that?"

"I would, but let's make it a nice long drink." She said.

"I'd like that." Tom reached down for another gulp of his ale when all of a sudden, Isis surged up from under the table, spilling the mugs all over their shoes.

"What on earth?" He exclaimed, while Mary sighed resignedly.

"I forgot about this bit. Isis rather likes a drink now and then." And indeed, Isis was lapping up the liquid all over their feet.

Tom laughed. "At least it gets cleaned up. It's not bad for her, is it?"

"She's had worse." Mary commented. "But we shouldn't encourage her. I suppose we'll have to cut our visit short."

Tom paid the man for the broken mugs and they rushed out into the sunlight, walking closer then etiquette requested yet further they either truly wished.

"She's a good dog, though."

"I know. We can still have a nice walk, despite the interrupted drink."

"I never doubted it." Mary's hand curled around his arm and they headed out for a less-romantic, yet more sensible, tour of the farms.


	11. Chapter 11: Toaster

Mary sat calmly at the breakfast table waiting for the toast to be brought in. She never was up earlier than everyone, and it made her feel unbalanced. Thankfully, Carson arrived with the toast before she had time to become melancholy. As she reached for a slice, the door opened and Tom came in.

"I see you've beat me to breakfast today." He said curiously, seating himself across from her and taking the tray she offered to him.

"I'm as surprised as you are." Mary said dryly, studying her piece of toast. "Carson?"

Carson stepped forward. "Yes, my lady?"

"Why is this toast burnt on one side?" Mary glanced up at Tom, amused.

Carson looked annoyed. "Mrs. Patmore has just acquired a new toaster, my lady. I don't suspect she knows how to use it. Allow me to fetch some decent breakfast." Preoccupied, he hurried out of the room.

"A new toaster, hm?" Tom raised his eyebrows at Mary.

"It must be quite a contraption." She replied. "And now that we're left all alone, it's probably a good time to ask you for a favor."

"It must be a scandalous favor, for you to be so careful about it." Tom somehow made a sip of tea look cheeky.

"Not this time." Mary smirked. "I need a present for Edith's birthday and I would like it if the two of us drove into town to pick up a surprise. Besides, you know her interests better than I do at this point." Mary's voice held a tinge of eagerness to spend some time out of the house.

"That sounds like a fine idea. Shall we leave after breakfast? I'll drive."

Robert came through the door. "Drive where?" He asked, sitting down and crackling open the day's paper. "And were on earth is Carson?"

Mary tapped a finger to her lips while Robert was absorbed in the paper, signaling Tom to let her take care of it. "Nowhere in particular, Papa. And Carson's gone because Mrs. Patmore has burned the toast."

"What? She's never done that in her entire career!"

"I'm afraid she hasn't gotten used to the new toaster yet, Papa."

"New toaster?" Robert looked up, confused. "I didn't know we were getting a new toaster."

"Neither did I." Mary said. "But Tom and I had better be off. Have a lovely day, Papa!" She hurried out of the room with Tom hot on her heels before Robert had time to question her plans.

"Now I'm glad that's done with." Tom grinned at Mary, letting her into the seat beside him before cruising off down the drive.

"Me too." Mary smiled back at him, carefree. "We have all day to ourselves. Isn't it lovely?" She sighed, and let her hand hang out of the car's window, feeling the breeze on her palm. "I feel so young again."

Tom glanced over at her happy face before putting his eyes back on the road. "But Edith's getting older and that's what we're really heading out for. What sort of present does she want, do you know?"

Mary mock-pouted. "Edith is our excuse, not our reason. Still, I want something modern, but middle class,"

Tom interrupted her with a confused snort.

"Well, she's still obsessed with this editor so I want her to feel what she's getting herself into, she's not getting any younger with her birthday coming up now, is she?" Mary said defensively.

"I just don't know why the two of you are so cruel." Tom shook his head. "You're sisters!"

"And thus we know each other's faults intimately and constantly suffer them. It's not cruelty, really, just… Harsh reality." She mused.

"I suppose." Tom retired the subject. "I'm going to get her a scarf, but as for your criteria-"

"Yes?" Mary inquired.

Tom winked. "Perhaps a toaster."


	12. Chapter 12: Cricket

"You know, you did well in last year's cricket match, especially for never having played before." Mary said contemplatively to Tom.

Tom's cheeks tinged a bit pink. "I don't know about that."

"But you really did! Papa would simply love it if you played again this year…" Mary trailed off, eying Tom suggestively.

"Absolutely not!" Tom declared. "He has enough people this year anyway, he doesn't need me."

She sighed. "Of course we need you, Tom! You're the only son, it's important for Papa to have you there for him."

"He avoids me the rest of the year! Why should cricket be any different?" Tom said, exasperated.

"Because by playing Papa's sport you both put aside your differences to work in unison for a common cause!"

He looked at her suspiciously. "When did you start reading my political books?"

"Since you told me I should!" She retorted. "Please do it?"

Tom made a disapproving noise through his nose, and gave her a stubborn glance.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Fine. But then you won't get your _reward_…"

Tom sat up. "What reward is this?" He leered.

Mary smirked and leaned over to whisper something in his ear, her voice getting lower with each word. Tom groaned, his eyes slipping closed. Eventually, she finished, and sat back casually in her chair. She raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Tom's cry of, "I'll play!" echoed satisfactorily in Robert's ears. _I wonder what she said to convince him?_ he thought.

Robert will be left wondering.

* * *

**AN:  
**So, I know I said this was for July... but in case you haven't seen my other stories, I got terribly sick and I'm only now starting to recover. I'm doing my best to do one of these a day again... but I don't know if I can. You'll get updates as I write, at least for now. Thanks for sticking with me. (PS- I recently posted a new Mary x Tom one shot! Go see, it's on my page!) xo


	13. Chapter 13: Motorbike

"Tom, have you seen the advertisements for these newfangled bicycles?" asked Mary at breakfast. Robert had finished already and it was just the two of them.

"No, I don't think so." He said, gesturing for the paper.

She handed it to him, pointing out a photograph. "See? It's like a car, but it's a bicycle! What do you think?"

Tom studied the picture. "That's quite a contraption! But why the sudden interest?"

Mary smiled. "I know you like cars, even if you aren't the chauffeur anymore. And besides, I thought maybe you would want one!"

"You're very thoughtful, Mary," he looked up, surprised at her. "But I'm not sure a motorbike would suit me!"

"Really? That's too bad. I thought the invention had some merit." She pursed her lips.

"But would you really like your skirt getting caught up in all the gears and grease? In a car you're separated comfortably from that." Tom said.

"Oh. I didn't think of that." Mary paused. "Fine, then. No motorbike for us. Promise me something instead."

"What?" Tom laughed.

"You'll take me out on drives more often. I miss that." She said longingly.

His gaze softened. "I'd like that too. I'm sure we could manage it somehow."

"Good." They shared a long stare before going back to breakfast, looking forward to some more time together.


	14. Chapter 14: Battle Stations

Tom peered out the sitting room window to catch a glimpse of the approaching caravan of automobiles bringing Evelyn Napier, Tony Gillingham, and Charles Blake to Downton. With only the slightest narrowing of the eyes, he yanked the curtains closed as they pulled up the drive.

"Mary, they're here." He said levelly, turning to where she sat icily on the sofa. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She looked at him, and her annoyed gaze said everything.

The corner of his mouth pulled up.  
"I'm afraid I'm going to enjoy this too much." He said, dropping down to sit beside her.

"They are the ones at fault for not listening to me the first time." Mary shrugged. "I may like them, but not enough to keep this charade up."

"So we're creating a new charade?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Let me assure you that this charade is much more enjoyable." Mary smirked. "If they won't accept that I'm content unmarried and refuse to stop hounding me, I simply will prove to them that I am off their little market. And you're the lucky man, Tom Branson." She pushed a hair back from his forehead.

"That I am indeed." He breathed, about to say more when Carson's warning knock sounded at the door.

"Battle stations!" Mary hissed into his ear, and Evelyn, Gillingham, and Blake were greeted by the elegant and very proper Lady Mary Crawley sat on the lap of the estate agent, kissing him for all she was worth.

Blake coughed awkwardly, and Gillingham looked like he might burst into frustrated tears at any moment. But Evelyn grinned, saying, "It took you long enough! I'll leave you to it and go find Edith. Coming, chaps?" He ambled pleasantly out if the room, leaving his shocked companions in his wake.


End file.
